


A Night Like No Other

by Aurum_Auri



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blackmail, Bottom Victor, Bottom Yuuri, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Penetration, Gangbang, Happy Wedding, Humiliation, Lots of Dicks, M/M, Mindbreak, Name Calling, Spanking, Throat Fucking, cockslut Victor, cockslut Yuuri, cumslut Victor, cumslut Yuuri, dub-con, hentai dialogue, mob with a happy ending, no no yes, non-con, sponsors taking advantage, tick marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 02:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15523947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum_Auri/pseuds/Aurum_Auri
Summary: Victor was never proud of the things he did, but his wedding day was supposed to make everything better. His sponsors had a different idea.Everything would have been alright. If only Yuuri hadn’t gotten himself involved as well. Now the happy couple is in for the night of their lives. They might even make a few fond memories.





	A Night Like No Other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blanchette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchette/gifts).



> MIND THE TAGS they are there for a reason. 
> 
> For Blanket, who deserves all this and more <3
> 
> Thanks for the beta help, Squeeze!!!

The wedding reception was a veritable ‘who’s who’ of the figure skating world. Everyone who was ‘anyone’ was there, from ISU officials, to skaters, to prominent sponsors who had supported Victor and Yuuri over the years.

The wedding had gone without a hitch, the dinner and the reception perfection.

Victor smiled at his husband. And how he loved to hear that name, husband. Over twenty years of neglecting life and love, twenty years of sacrificing everything to get where he stood today.

Victor wanted to regret the things he’d done, but looking at Yuuri’s smile now, there was nothing. The suffering, the pain. Everything… else. It was all worth it now. He reached for Yuuri’s hand.

Tonight was the most important night of Victor’s life. He and Yuuri had been intimate before, Yuuri had assumed his hesitance had been inexperience and treated him gently. Victor guiltily allowed him to think it. But tonight, Victor would come clean.

He didn’t want secrets between them. Not when they were married, when his life and love, his everything, would be by his side for the rest of their lives. When he took Yuuri to bed tonight, everything between them would be bared.

The reception was in the banquet hall of a large hotel. Several other rooms were set aside for the event to give the very large number of people room to spread out, talk, drink and be merry. The main banquet room was where the dance floor was situated, and Yuuri was currently dancing with his friend Phichit, smiling and laughing like children.

He had left Victor exhausted in his wake. Yuuri’s stamina, even now, was something legendary. Yuuri had taken turns with his mother and Minako, and now Phichit was spinning Yuuri around the room, snapping selfies as they turned.

Nothing was traditional about this wedding. It wasn’t something wholly Russian, wholly Japanese, nor even some American bastardization of the two, though they had taken elements of each. What was left behind was a ceremony that kept everyone on their toes, kept the night lively, and celebrated their love.

It was winding down now. Many of the guests had gone upstairs, checked into their hotel rooms, and turning in for the night. The Katsukis had already congratulated them. The halls were emptying out, and the band already wound down. The music playing was someone’s phone plugged into a speaker.

Victor stood. “Mind if I cut in?” he asked. Phichit laughed, unaffected by the late hour, and passed Yuuri off in a seamless move. Phichit turned, never losing a beat. He stole Chris away from a sponsor that Victor knew better than he should.

“Husband,” Yuuri said. He smiled, eyelashes heavy.

“I think I want to steal you away,” Victor said. They moved in a gentle waltz, somewhere between dancing and simply swaying in each other’s arms.

Yuuri smiled. “I think I’ll let you.” Victor spun Yuuri. Yuuri dipped him. There was an uneasiness in the room that Victor couldn’t put his finger on. Something unspoken weighed the air down. Victor glanced out the corners of his eyes to see most of the sponsors throughout his life still waiting in the corners of the room, many with bowed heads as they watched Victor closely.

“Yuuri, there’s something I need to tell you,” Victor said, before he could lose his nerve. Yuuri’s eyebrows peaked. “Not now, but… soon. Tonight. It’s very important.”

“What is it?” Yuuri asked. He looked concerned.

“Not here,” Victor said. “But-”

A hand touched Victor’s shoulder. He found an old, familiar face looking at him. Sokolov. Victor couldn’t remember the man’s first name; he’d put it out of mind with careful deliberateness.

“Congratulations, Victor,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. He smiled, something slow and creeping over his face. “Your new husband is as beautiful as you.”

“Thank you,” Victor replied. The winsome smile on his face was easy to fake. This particular mask was ten years old and something Victor was well acquainted with. He held Yuuri a little closer to him. “I’m very lucky to have him. Yuuri, this is an old sponsor of mine, Sokolov.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Sokolov said, shaking Yuuri’s hand. The dark smile on Sokolov’s face widened. “May I steal your husband away for a few minutes? A few of the other sponsors and I have a gift for him before you leave.”

Yuuri smiled warmly. “Of course. Victor, I’ll see you up in our room. Don’t forget our flight leaves tomorrow, so don’t stay too late.” Yuuri stretched up on his toes, leaving a soft kiss on Victor’s cheek.

Victor wanted to beg Yuuri to stay. But it was better this way. Yuuri would learn soon enough the terrible, shameful things Victor had done to get where he was today.

“I love you, Yuuri,” Victor said. Something broke in his voice. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” Yuuri said, though he sounded a little confused.

Victor was led away by Sokolov like he was being led to his own funeral. Chris came up to ask him something, but Victor gave him an apologetic look and mouthed ‘later’ to him. He wanted this over as soon as he could.

“I’m not doing this. I told you, I’m done.”

“You said that last time, too,” Sokolov reminded him. “And yet, here we are.” Victor knew all too well. Sokolov led Victor into a room to the side, another one of the reserved rooms for the banquet. Several more familiar faces were already waiting within.

Victor stopped at the doorway. “I mean it this time. Yuuri, he can’t- I don’t-” Another man put his hands on Victor’s shoulders. He suppressed a shudder. “It’s not worth it. I can’t betray his trust like this. Please. Please, I’ll do anything else, just don’t make me-”

There was a low pressure on his spine. A hand guided him deeper into the room with a steady push.

“We’ll release the pictures, then,” another sponsor said lightly. Victor felt a hand on his ass. He wanted to smack it away. “Skating seasons are hard enough without additional scandal, aren't they? And you know you love it, Victor. Does your Yuuri satisfy you the way _we_ can?”

“My Yuuri is everything to me,” Victor said.

“Then let's hope he never has to find out,” Voscek, another familiar sponsor, said with a lecherous smile. The door closed behind Victor with a deafening finality.

“Please,” he repeated again, knowing this was all a hopeless endeavour. His entreaties fell on deaf ears. Begging wouldn't work. Neither would running, though Victor knew he'd easily get away.

Blackmail was a powerful thing.

With loathing in his throat, Victor stumbled forward. The routine was a familiar one. First came the yank of his arms behind his back, tightly bound so he couldn't struggle at first. They used softer ropes now. When Victor writhed, they wouldn't destroy the soft skin of arms the same way, though the rope burn still lasted for days.

He clenched his teeth. Sometimes there was a blindfold. Today, they left it somewhere in the wayside. Hands pulled at his clothes, stripping him bare, adjusting the ropes as they went so they could leave him nude and kneeling on the floor.

It always started like this.

Victor clamped his mouth shut, afraid of what he’d say if given half the chance. Begging wouldn’t work. It would only encourage them, make them reminisce of times gone by. Protests would fall on deaf ears.

Victor was too proud to show any emotion now. Not when Yuuri was waiting innocently upstairs for his new husband to take him to bed. Not when all Victor could think of was the betrayal of Yuuri’s trust, and just how cowardly Victor was.

But nothing would be allowed to jeopardize the next season. Not when Yuuri’s career was so radiantly bright and awaiting all the glamor and glory of another victory. A scandal like this would tank them both... and half the ISU’s governing body along with them.

Victor cried out softly as his body was suddenly bent forward onto a couch, his chest pressed to the seat and his face buried between cushions. The ropes pulled harshly at his wrists. The tile floor was hard on his knees.

The air was cool against his bare skin, but anticipation and dread made his body tingle with something horrible. He was twitching. His jaw clenched.

The first touch was gentle along his spine. Sokolov. He heard a gentle chiding sound coming from Sokolov’s mouth. “Tsk tsk, Victor, you’re too tense. It’s almost like you don’t want this.”

“I don’t,” Victor insisted.

There was a sharp pop on his ass as the flat of a hand struck flesh. Surprise stole his breath for a moment.

“And there you are, lying to us. I thought you knew better than that by now. Look at this stubborn boy, Sokolov,” another sponsor said. Andrei something. “What happened to the sweet Vitya we used to know?”

A hand smoothed over the stinging skin. Victor let out a shuddering breath. His fingers curled in anticipation, already expecting another slap. When he tried to shift, he managed only a scant few centimeters before the pull on the ropes around his wrists grew unbearable.

The fabric of the couch was rough against his nipples. He could already feel them forming peaks in anticipation. Blood was flowing south despite his best efforts. Victor let out a strangled, broken noise before he could stop it.

“It’s alright, Andrei. A reminder won’t hurt. A little send off. The perfect wedding gift for our favorite skater.” There was genuine affection in Sokolov’s voice. There was another sharp slap on the skin of Victor’s ass, ringing loudly in the air.

Victor hissed.

There was more smoothing of a hand over the skin, soft shushing from another sponsor in the corner. “Let it out, Vitya, let us hear that pretty voice. You don’t have to hold yourself back for us. Let it all out. You know how I like to hear you beg.”

Victor shook his head fiercely. Humiliation brought tears prickling to his eyes. There was at least thirty people in here, all of them witness to Victor’s shame, the way his cock was getting hard under the careful hand on his ass. This was all it took.

There was a snapping sound of a bottle of lube being opened. Someone’s hands pried Victor’s asscheeks apart. The first push of a cold, lubed finger inside had Victor reeling. His fingers clutched at the rope. He was so vulnerable like this, unable to stop the intrusion forcing its way inside, especially when several pairs of hands were holding him firm against the couch.

“He’s still so pretty,” someone sighed.

“He’s tight,” Sokolov said. The finger thrust deep inside, sending Victor’s body rocking forward. Victor whimpered. “Just like when he was a little virgin. Does your Yuuri not fuck you? Does he not see what a little slut you are for cock?”

“Yuuri doesn’t- aah,” Victor cried out when Sokolov crooked a finger inside him, threatening to brush his prostate. “Please, no, stop-”

“Always so stubborn,” Andrei sighed. “Vasily?”

Another man stepped up. Victor could see him out of the corner of his eye, a man with hair that was once very dark but now greying at the temples. He crouched beside Victor, reaching between the span of Victor’s legs.

Victor had a half-chub, a little hard despite the overwhelming grip of shame.

“Stop, don’t touch me,” Victor breathed, as a hand started to stroke his cock while Sokolov fingered him. Victor’s words broke off into a faint whine as another finger pressed inside his body.

“He really is like a virgin again,” Sokolov said with faint wonder. “Do you usually take the reins, so to speak, with your pretty husband?”

Victor whined when Sokolov pressed hard into his prostate and scissored his fingers wide. “Yuuri… likes it…” was all he said.

Yuuri had always told Victor to be himself, not to be something to please Yuuri. Victor wanted to come clean. He didn't mind playing the dom for Yuuri in bed. He didn’t mind being the one to push Yuuri down and make him forget his anxieties and the doubts of his own self worth.

But Victor always felt so guilty about his own selfishness, and he felt equally guilty lying to pretend he wasn’t jealous of Yuuri lying boneless and well-fucked on the sheets.

“Hurry up,” someone complained from the other end of the room.

“Alright, alright,” Sokolov replied. He made short work, stretching Victor out quickly as Vasily stroked him. Victor bit his lip as the touch on his cock went from fast to slow, a thumb occasionally swiping over the tip to collect a bead of precum and smear it over. Victor grunted into the couch cushion.

He was hard, and he was disgusted with himself. “Just leave me,” he rasped. His voice was cracking. “Don’t touch me, I don’t- I don’t-” he broke off with a sudden gasp when the fingers pulled out. Victor was left feeling the gaping emptiness as his body twitched. “I- I- No, stop! Stop!”

There was a sound like a zipper. “Can someone shut him up? I hate the screaming.”

“He’ll stop as soon as you stick your dick in him,” someone said.

Before Victor could protest, something cloth was forced between his lips, muffling his cries. There was a liquid sound of lube slicking over skin. Warmth covered his back.

Someone started to push in.

Victor screamed into the gag, starting to thrash wildly. He couldn't stop the cock sliding between his legs, pushing inside. It ached, the pinch and stretch and inexorable pressure pushing deeper and deeper inside, opening him up for the first time in years.

His body jerked, but hands held him fast against the couch. Someone shushed him gently. Sokolov stroked his hair. “That's a good boy,” he said. A sort of visceral, gut wrenching pleasure settled in Victor’s bones. He whined as Sokolov bottomed out inside him.

He opened his eyes. Tears trickled down his cheeks. Hips rocked back, and suddenly Victor was empty, gaping open and whining more until Sokolov slammed in.

The little moan was the worst part, the way it felt so good despite every fiber of Victor’s body screaming to escape.

He saw Yuuri’s eyes in his mind, Yuuri’s disgust when he finally saw what a mess Victor truly was.

Victor’s cock was aching and hard as he rutted against the front of the couch. _Stop stop stop,_ he wanted to scream. His body went limp. Sokolov tipped his body and thrust in deeper, rolling his hips experimentally.

The first few thrusts were slower. Then Sokolov’s cock dragged perfectly over a sweet bundle of nerves and Victor’s whole body jerked. A breathy moan escaped him.

Sokolov chuckled. “That's right, my good boy.” He could feel fingers carding through his hair, and Sokolov pushed in so his cock was resting heavily against Victor’s prostate.

Victor squirmed and whimpered. But he was helpless, rendered immobile by ropes and hands as they admired Victor beneath them.

There was a snap of a camera in the distance. “You're so beautiful full of cock,” someone said. Something childish and vain in him preened. Victor’s hips trembled. He felt achingly full, desperate to pull away and yet desperate to feel the cock fill him deeper.

He blinked away tears as his thighs were spread wider apart. They were studying him. Fingers traced along his rim, pleasuring the place where cock penetrated him so teasingly deep. They were chatting around him as if he couldn't even hear them.

“It's twitching so prettily.”

“Look at him cry. Doesn't he have the prettiest tears you've ever seen?”

“Come on, Sokolov, hurry up. I want to stick my dick in him next.”

Victor shuddered as they talked around him and continued to stroke him, teasing his cock and his nipples. Wet heat trickled down his cheeks as his hips started to rut against the couch. No one was holding him down anymore.

A hand slapped his ass and Sokolov ground deep. “My sweet little Vitya, horny like a bitch in heat, aren't you? And so pliant now that you've got a real cock in your ass. God you're beautiful.”

Then Victor heard a sharp breath over the panting and drooling of the sponsors. “Oh my god. _Victor,”_ came the last voice Victor wanted to hear.

Victor tipped his head toward the door. His body was on full display, every debauched inch of him burning with hunger and shame and desire. Cold fear ripped his heart in two.

Yuuri.

“Victor, Victor are you okay?” Yuuri's voice was near hysterical with panic as he ran inside the room. Victor whipped his head back and forth, frantic. _No no no,_ Yuuri couldn't see this, he couldn't be here. “What did you do to him?”

Yuuri's eyes were burning as he rounded on the other sponsors. More than half of them had their cocks poking out of the zippers of their trousers, leisurely masturbating to the grand show of Victor’s greatest shame.

Yuuri’s hands curled into fists. His Yuuri was never given to violence. But there was something in his eyes Victor he never seen before.

“How could you,” he hissed. He swung his fist at Sokolov, who was still balls deep inside of Victor. But the fist was caught by Andrei, his large, meaty palm completely enveloping Yuuri’s thin-fingered hands, and Yuuri stumbled.

The struggle was brief. Yuuri’s balance already thrown, Andrei was able to yank Yuuri into a crushing grip between his broad pecs and thickly corded arms. Yuuri was strong. So strong, able to lift Victor up the way Victor lifted him, and yet Yuuri’s strength was nothing as he was quickly wrestled to the floor.

Sokolov pulled out with excruciating slowness, the length of his cock dragging over every nerve inside Victor until he was hissing out a pleasured groan into the gag. Sokolov looked over Yuuri.

“It looks like you haven't been treating our sweet boy well enough,” Sokolov said in his quiet voice. Yuuri’s glare was so beautiful, defiant and furious and frustrated at once, still struggling despite the pair of men now holding him against the floor. “Let's fix that, shall we?”

He beckoned with his fingers, and the men began to haul Yuuri closer.

No. No no no-

Victor wailed into the gag as Yuuri started to spit expletives and scream. Yuuri was pushed to his ass in front of the couch. Victor’s ass was lifted, and his hips were yanked back so his thighs would bracket Yuuri’s head. Victor’s achingly hard cock was dribbling down Yuuri’s cheek in this arrangement. Yuuri’s hot breath ghosted over Victor’s cock.

“Victor, are you okay?” Yuuri managed to breathe. Victor’s body was now a prison for Yuuri, keeping Yuuri pinned against the couch by Victor’s thighs against his shoulders.

Victor let out a small groan as Sokolov’s legs pressed against his own. The thick cock slid back inside, so slow, bottoming back out with the head pressing against Victor’s prostate. Someone reached past Sokolov to pat Yuuri’s cheek.

“Come on, suck him.” A fist grabbed Victor’s swollen cock. The grip was too tight, and Victor moaned as he could feel a bit of precome dribble out, the head all engorged and shiny the way it always did when Victor was close. The head was dragged against something plush and soft.

Lips. Yuuri’s mouth.

“I think Vitya here has more than earned a little reward. What better than his new husband to give it to him?”

Cold horror settled in Victor’s heart. Yuuri wasn't just forced to watch. He would be forced to join in Victor’s ceremonial defilement. He started to scream into the gag. _Anything but this._ He wanted to beg them. Anything, he would do anything in the world, if they would only leave Yuuri out of it.

His screaming became more frenzied until lips wrapped so sweetly around his whole cock, enveloping him in the familiar, wet warmth of Yuuri’s mouth. His breath hissed out his nose. Sokolov rolled his hips to drag his cock along Victor’s prostate, and his world spun.

A low groan slipped out of the gag. His world was narrowing. Yuuri’s lips around him was one of the greatest feelings in the world. No one was cuter than his Yuuri at sucking cock. But it had never been paired with such a blissful feeling of fullness before.

The sponsors were jeering. There were variations of “Roll your tongue over the tip how he likes it!” “What a cute cocksucker!” and “suck him down good!” drifting through the room.

Victor whispered apologies into the gag. His hips were rolling, to his shame. His body was desperate for contact, for the rocking feeling of cock sliding in and out the way Victor had neglected for so long.

“Why?” Yuuri breathed between long sucks. Victor tipped his head, and he saw what had made Yuuri finally fall in line.

Someone was flipping through the photos on their phone. Years and years of Victor being the perfect cumslut for his sponsors, spreading his legs so he could buy new skates, so he could have an apartment in the nice part of town, so he could keep Makkachin fed. Victor with his head thrown back in ecstasy as he was fucked and filled again and again.

“Our Vitya deserves the best. It's our gift to him on his wedding night. We've taken care of him since he was just a cute little junior, you see.” There was a sick fondness in Sokolov’s voice.

Andrei crooned softly as he brought his hands to Victor’s nipples, lifting Victor’s chest enough to tease his hands over the hard points. “We just want to give him a proper send off for our sweet boy before he's taken away by another man.”

“You're sick,” Yuuri whispered in horror. “Victor, I'm here, it's okay. I won't make you do this alone.”

Victor screamed into his gag, whipping his head back and forth. He finally worked his tongue free and pushed the gag from his lips. “No, no Yuuri, you can't- I’m sorry, Yuuri, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Victor sobbed. “I wanted to tell you-”

Victor stared back at Sokolov.

“Please, please don't make him stay,” Victor whispered.

Vasily chuckled. “Awww, little Victor doesn’t want to share the cock he’s going to get.”

Victor broke down. Massive, raw sobs ripped through him. The shame was overwhelming. Yuuri could see him in his lowest moment, and now Yuuri would be subjected to the same unless he just left.

Yuuri's touch was achingly familiar. “I'm not making you do this alone,” Yuuri breathed. Yuuri glared up at the sponsors, for all the good his scowl did when Victor’s long cock was laying heavily across his cheek. “We’re married now. I don't care what it is, we'll get through this together.”

Sokolov laughed. The vibrations rocked through Victor, sending Sokolov’s cock stuttering over Victor’s prostate. “This is true,” he said, nodding over at another sponsor in the corner. “Gregory, get the good stuff. We need to celebrate the happy couple on their happy wedding day.”

Gregory let out a little laugh as he reached for a box, pulling it open easily. Victor could feel Sokolov starting to roll his hips in little circles, jolting Victor’s body enough that he was fucking Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri let out a small whine and a cough around Victor’s cock.

An older man joined him in this, stepping out from the shadows. His hair was completely white and his hands were coarse and trembling as took something out from within the box. He leered down. His body looked frail, but Victor didn't dare move. Looks were deceiving. The man was old now, but his arms were like iron.

“Ah, Vitya. My darling Vitya. Look at big you’ve grown!” he crooned. His hands stroked through Victor’s hair, arranging it with a deceptively gentle touch. He pinned something to Victor’s hair. “The last time I saw you, you were still so small, and your hair still so long.”

An old sponsor. Victor’s first ‘real’ sponsor, the man who had plucked Victor off the ice in juniors and told him he could be more than just amazing- he could be the best. The one who left Victor in Yakov’s capable hands, to mold into the greatest skater in history.

He patted Victor’s head with a fatherly smile, pulling the rope from Victor’s wrists. His fingers slipped through Victor’s hair again, arranging it nicely around what was unmistakably a wedding veil, twirling silvery strands between his fingers.

“You know, I’ve never entirely forgiven you for cutting it off,” he said suddenly. His bony fingers gripped tight into Victor’s hair and _yanked_ , dragging Victor up off the couch enough for bring him up to eye level. The gauzy veil drifted around Victor’s shoulders, and he blinked in a daze, wincing in pain as thin lips met his.

There was ice down his spine, something gross and slimy forcing itself into his mouth and pulling him into a crude parody of a kiss. It dragged on too long, before he pulled away with a messy _smeck_.

“Ah, but I still missed you, Vitya, even when you ran away. Did you miss me? How does Papa’s kiss taste after so many years?”

Victor shuddered and shook his head. He was yanked back up to Papa’s mouth.

Sokolov chuckled as he started to fuck Victor hard, and Victor whined into the putrid kiss as his cock rocked in and out of his beloved Yuuri’s throat. Victor’s leg was jerked up, and hands slid something up his thighs.

Victor could feel Yuuri being yanked around between his legs, pulled out from between his thighs and wrestled out of his clothes and into a little outfit of his own. They matched, Victor realized, in a moment of absent clarity. Matching white lace garters on their thighs. Matching white veils on their heads. Someone tied a cute white ribbon around Yuuri’s neck.

Papa’s fingers trembled as he tied an identical one around Victor’s throat.

“So pretty, so perfect. Papa is so glad he could see his precious boy on his special day.” Papa stepped back with a proud smile. He nodded to Sokolov. Suddenly the cock inside Victor ground in deep. Sokolov’s laughter sent the cock dragging along Victor’s prostate, and Victor clawed at the ropes holding him.

There was a hazy pall over his head.

Someone was yanking the briefs down Yuuri’s hips, exposing his cute cock to the open air. “Wow, he's so good for you, Vitya,” Andrei said. Yuuri let out a small moan as he was manhandled and bent over, his ass displayed where Victor could see.

A glittering gold and crystal plug was nestled between his cheeks.

Victor’s heart thudded in his chest. Had Yuuri worn it the whole time? Had Yuuri spent the entirety of the wedding like this, the plug warm and solid and thick between his legs, waiting to come back to the hotel room and let Victor between his thighs?

Victor let out a strangled cry as Sokolov started to fuck him into the couch, jarring his mind away from thoughts of Yuuri. It was impossible to focus his mind when his ass was being pounded hard and fast. Victor’s senses were slipping.

Yuuri was rolled to his knees. Someone fed their cock between Yuuri’s lips while Andrei toyed with the golden plug. Yuuri whimpered, drawing Victor’s attention like a siren’s call. A pretty flush crossed his cheeks as the thickest part of the plug was drawn out of his body and then pushed right back in.

Sokolov ground his cock in hard and deep, and Victor felt hips jar against his thighs as Sokolov came with a grunt, spilling thick ropes of semen deep into Victor’s hole. There was a small popping sound of a cap taken off a marker. Victor laid back, dizzy and aroused, swimming in his own head as a felt tip marker notched his thigh.

Sokolov pulled out. Victor whined as the cock slipped from his body, leaving him open and twitching. Another man lined up behind him. There was barely a moment’s pause before the next cock forced itself in deep, not giving Victor even a second to breathe. His eyes were blown wide as his body opened, forced to take the massive cock pushing endlessly inside.

“Take it out,” he rasped. “Please, stop-”

A hand came down hard on the skin of his ass, stinging bright and sharp. “Come on, pretty slut. You’d think he’d be more enthusiastic.” The cock drew out, leaving Victor wheezing. His hole twitched and gaped slightly. The man slapped his rim a few times with the head of his cock, laughing as Victor made little noises somewhere deep in his chest.

Yuuri’s voice rang out clear. Someone had mounted Yuuri, fucking him like a horny dog. Yuuri’s eyes were blurred with tears, and he moaned out, “Victorrr,” with a soft cry. A cock was pushed back between his lips.

Yuuri’s sparkling eyes rolled in his head as his body was jerked between the two, until his gaze landed on Victor. He let out a breathy moan, eyes going wide.

Victor gasped loudly as the man bent his body back. His muscles strained against the stretch. He wasn't as flexible as he once was, but he was still bent back, thighs thrown over the man’s shoulders as the sponsor pushed his thick cock back inside.

The feeling was different, slicked up by Sokolov’s semen filling his belly. The cock was bigger than Sokolov’s, reaching deeper and opening Victor wider, but sliding in infinitely easier, coming home inside Victor like a perfect fit, splitting him wide open.

All it took was a single stroke and Victor spilled onto his stomach, coming hard in thick ropes that painted up his chest and face.

“Good job,” Papa murmured, and his hand took up the gentle strokes on Victor’s cock, milking it between the thrusts in Victor’s ass. Victor protested as it became too sensitive, the cock slamming again and again against his prostate and the trembling fingers endlessly working his cock.

“Stop, stop- too much-” Victor gasped as the cock slammed hard and deep, coming inside him. Victor could feel the semen dribbling out of his fucked out hole. It was pushed back in with fingers and then plugged with another cock. Another cock, another tick mark on his thigh.

One sponsor, two, three. The cocks blurred together as they took their turns fucking Victor’s hungry ass. Nearby, Yuuri was moaning the way he did when Victor railed him particularly hard, a sweet, abandoned sound where Yuuri surrendered entirely and stopped muffling himself.

“Yuuri,” Victor panted. Yuuri always loved being fucked. Victor loved the soft, slow lovemaking of their usual trysts, but Yuuri was the one who wanted Victor to force him against the headboard and rut him hard.

Yuuri looked right on the edge of bliss, his eyes never leaving Victor’s face, but his eyelids were hooded and heavy with pleasure. Cocks in his mouth and ass were slamming in deep again and again, using Yuuri like a pretty cocksleeve between them.

“Let's reunite the happy couple,” Papa said, stroking Victor’s hair. Victor barely noticed the hands grabbing his limbs, moving him off the couch and onto his knees on the floor. Yuuri’s hip pressed against his. The lengths of their body were lined up touching.

Yuuri’s hand grabbed for Victor’s. The cock pulled out of Yuuri’s mouth and Yuuri’s head tipped, mouth seeking Victor’s. Victor kissed him, dazed and slipping into a messy, open mouthed kiss.

Yuuri tasted like semen when he kissed. Hands grabbed Victor’s hips, hauling him into a better position for another sponsor to fuck him open on their cock.

“You like this,” Yuuri rasped. His voice was rough from his throat being fucked open. Yuuri's eyes were open and innocent, not accusing but sparkling. “Is it good, Victor? I'm not mad.”

Victor groaned as Andrei jackrabbited his hips. He squeezed Yuuri’s hand and looked away.

The sponsor fucking Yuuri pulled out. A thick gush of seed spilled down Yuuri’s thighs, staining the garter. Someone else came up and pushed inside, and Yuuri’s eyes screwed shut, his eyes closing as he moaned. “Victor, Victor- aaah-” he cried out. His grip on Victor’s hand became iron.

Victor’s mind was hazy. He lost track of everything, of where one cock ended and another began. Yuuri’s hand wrapped around Victor’s cock, slowly pumping him as they were fucked. Victor returned the favor. He was letting go of reality. Sensation overwhelmed everything.

Yuuri’s chin was jerked away from their kiss, and someone pushed their dick between his pretty lips. Hands grabbed Victor’s cheeks and gave him the same. His lips opened around the fat, blunt head of a cock. The salty taste crossed his tongue. It was all the forewarning he had before his head was tipped up and he was _used_ by his sponsor. His throat relaxed, his eyes closed and rolled back.

“I want to taste him,” someone said. Victor cracked his eyes open and he saw someone bending over behind Yuuri, dragging a tongue up the strip between his cheeks. Someone else was sucking Yuuri’s cock, and Yuuri was whining and panting hard around the cock in his throat. “He’s as slutty as Vitya!”

Victor felt a shiver as Yuuri’s hand went wild on Victor’s cock, bringing Victor crashing over the edge again. It was a mess of sex and writhing bodies and the heavy stench of sex surrounding him. Yuuri cried out as the man fucked his ass with his tongue, sucking come out of the hole.

He was jealous, he realized, even as another tick was added to his thigh. He groaned around a cock as he was penetrated again. He wanted to be the one making Yuuri cry out, wanted to be the one eating his ass, sucking his pretty cock.

Fingers were rubbing the entrance around the cock. Victor writhed. Yuuri was too beautiful as he was taken apart by other men, wrecked and ruined and coming hard into a man’s mouth. They pulled off, and Yuuri was taken once more, fucked in front of Victor’s eyes, twitching around a fresh cock.

He didn’t realize he was making noises until Papa shushed him gently. “Vitya, Vitya, sweet, it’s okay, I know what you need.” He combed his fingers through Victor’s hair, stroking the length of the gauzy veil.

Papa nodded at the man inside Victor, and the fingers stroking his rim pushed inside, first one, then two, harsh and without warning. The rich squelch of come and lube made the way slick enough that Victor’s body opened for them, though it left him gasping and wailing and clutching desperately for Yuuri’s hand.

It went too quickly, too sudden for words, for Victor to make sense of the stretch as the fingers worked him wider open. Thick cock pumped in and out of his body hard, like clockwork, but fingers manipulated his insides and stroked the soft walls and slicked them with more lube, until Victor was messy and whimpering, limp on the floor.

His body was gathered up, and he was leaned back against the man who was fucking him. Andrei’s massive arms closed around him and supported his weight, holding Victor’s legs spread open. Victor’s cock was rock hard and bobbing in the air in front of him.

A single pearly drop of precum rolled down the tip, dribbling onto the floor. Yuuri was gazing at him with open desire, like he wanted Victor’s cock shoved down his throat instead of the man who was fucking it now. Someone slapped Yuuri’s ass, and he gasped and presented his ass better for another.

Another sponsor stepped up to Victor. He pulled Victor’s legs further apart and settled himself delicately between Victor’s thighs, a hungry smile on his face. He was proudly stroking his little cock.

“This is my first time at one of these, you know?” he said as he got onto his knees. He stroked Victor’s hair, like he was inspecting the veil and the smear of semen on Victor’s lips. “I would have sponsored you and Katsuki sooner if I knew you were such good little holes to fuck. You two just love to have dick inside you, don’t you?”

He smiled as he pushed into Victor beside the first cock. Victor saw stars. Something scraped along his throat and he realized it was his own wails as his body was stretched to its limits, forced open by two men.

He was spitted on them, unable to move as they started to rock out of sync, sometimes with one pushing in, sometimes neither, sometimes both, leaving Victor’s mind spinning. Drool ran down his chin as he wailed without pause. Yuuri was too far away now, so far away, but he was still so beautiful being spitroasted by two of the thickest cocks Victor had ever seen.

He wanted to hate it. Oh god, he wanted to leave, he wanted to call a stop to it all. But Yuuri was so beautiful like this. His eros was being a true slut for cock in all forms. Victor was crying. “I’m sorry, Yuuri, I’m so sorry-” he sobbed.

Yuuri’s eyes were glazed, but they focused with each shaky apology. He pulled away from the men, his movements slow and languid, like he was swimming through thick sludge. He was shaky as he stumbled over. His legs trembled, and come was pouring down his thighs, spilling in a river out his twitching ass.

He fell to his knees beside Victor, kissing him hard. His mouth was bitter with come, but sweet with the taste of Yuuri beneath. “It’s good, isn’t it? It feels good?”

Victor shook his head hard. Tears poured down his cheeks.

Yuuri shushed him gently, pressing soft kisses to the tear tracks. His next kiss tasted of Victor’s grief in addition to the seed. Yuuri’s hands were trembling. His eyes were still dark with lust. “If you like it, enjoy it. I don’t mind. This is for you, Victor. And I’ll always love you.”

It was everything Victor needed to hear.

Andrei slammed his cock hard into Victor, a sharp spike against his prostate that made blackness dance across Victor’s vision. Yuuri was pushed onto the floor again. Another cock down his throat, another cock splitting him open.

People were stroking Victor’s hair and crooning. “So pretty, so lovely.”

“You like our nice big cocks inside your pretty little fuck hole, don’t you?” the sponsor grunted. His face was screwed up in pleasure. He was focused solely on his own pleasure, using Victor like the come dump he was.

Victor’s head fell back. “Yes, yes,” he cried. He sobbed as the sponsor finished inside him, another tick added to his thigh and another cock pushing inside beside the first. “Please, fuck me harder! Please, please! Use me! Use my ass, please-” He broke off into incoherent moans as his head was pulled back, and Andrei’s lips sucked hard at his neck.

Papa patted his head, looking proud. “That’s a good boy, Vitya, my favorite boy. Nice and honest now. What do you need?”

“More cock, please,” Victor gasped.

“So pretty and polite, you were always so good,” Papa crooned. He gestured to the others. “You heard Vitya, give him what he wants.”

He was out of his mind with pleasure. His eyes were rolling in his skull, driven mad by the fat cocks using his body. Yuuri’s pleasure was audible, and it did things to Victor, buzzing under his skin with moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin, slick and wet.

Yuuri’s eyes were closed in bliss, his body rocking as he was thrust into from both ends. The veil floated lightly over his shoulders. It was sticky with spurts of come, and the cute little thigh garter was dripping.

Yuuri’s thighs were plastered with tick marks.

Noticing his gaze, Papa kissed Victor gently on the forehead. “Your fiance is very pretty filled with cock. No wonder you like to stuff him full so much. You chose nicely, Vitya, we like him very much.”

A strange bubble of pride ripped through him, a streak of something intensely joyful. Yuuri was so beautiful, and he was lost in the pleasure of being used. But then Victor was bent down, and he found the positions changed.

Suddenly he was laying on someone’s chest, their cock inside him, his knees splayed awkwardly on the floor. A sponsor was straddling his ass, and he pulled his cock out with a little laugh.

“We know what you like best, Victor,” he said. A hand curled possessively around Victor’s ass, and the blunt head of the cock traced up and down between Victor’s cheeks. It left a damp trail of semen and lube slicking up and down. He tapped the head against Victor’s hole.

“Please,” Victor moaned. “Please come inside me.” He wanted the cock back inside him. His body was empty and twitching and he wanted his sponsors to use him right.

But there was only more laughter. “Come on, Victor, you can do better than that. How bad do you want a thick, juicy cock inside you?”

“Please, please, please, come in me, please come in my ass and fill me up, please, I’ll be a good boy I promise.”

“Do you want my seed in your belly?” the sponsor continued.

“Pleeassseee,” Victor sobbed. It hurt from how badly he wanted it. He wanted to be used, he wanted to be fucked. He wanted to be their good little whore, a come dump for them to fill up and use. “Please, want it so bad, fill my belly with your come.”

“That’s a good boy, Vitya, you’ll get your cock, you pretty little slut.” Victor barely had time to preen at the praise before the cock shoved inside, fucking him brutally fast and hard. It slammed in, forcing his body open beside the first cock. He could feel them both twitching inside him, coming at once, spilling inside his belly.

His stomach was hurting from all the come inside him, all the cocks forcing him open. He felt two more tick marks on his thighs. Yuuri’s thighs were thick with the marks, glazed with release. He was watching Victor with shiny eyes as his ass was railed. “Victor… look so pretty,” he rasped. His voice was ruined and sexy.

The sponsor fucking Yuuri suddenly paused. He grabbed Yuuri by his slender waist, hauling him up and pushing Yuuri into a wall. The new angle let him pound deeper, harder, and Yuuri reacted accordingly. “Aaaaaa yes! Feels good! Aah!” he screamed in delight.

His thighs and ass jiggled with thrust. He was pinned to the wall like a butterfly and fucked frantically. Victor licked his lips. “Is it good, Yuuri?” he rasped.

Yuuri sobbed. “Victor, feels so good, aah-”

Yuuri was perfect and Victor was never more in love with his husband than he was right now.

“What good little comedumps you are,” a deep-voiced sponsor crooned to Yuuri. “Do you like us filling you up?” Yuuri looked wrecked. It was gorgeous on him. The sponsor ground his cock deep into Yuuri, and a little change overcame his face.

He was coming, and from his expression, he was coming hard and a lot. Yuuri was left sagging against the wall when he was finally released, and a very considerable stream of come was running down his thighs. His legs were shaky and threatening collapse.

From the couch, someone beckoned. The man uncrossed his legs, revealing his fly unzipped and his cock in his hand. He was stroking it slowly, watching the show, a warm smile on his face. “Want more cock, pretty boy?”

“Want your come,” Yuuri whimpered. He was shaky and took a step closer. “Wanna be your comedump.” He glanced at Victor, hesitating.

Victor nodded. “Sit on his cock, Yuuri, I want to see him fill you up,” Victor rasped. His body was flipped over so he could watch better. The new position let him get pounded even harder than before, and Victor cried out in delight. Two cocks were ruining him, pounding his slutty fuck hole.

It was the perfect view to watch Yuuri impale himself greedily on the stranger’s cock, fucking himself with total abandon, mindless of everything but filling his wrung out body full of come.

Victor came just watching the show, his tired cock jerking and weakly sputtering the last few jets of semen his body could muster. He cried as his oversensitive body jerked and twitched. The shuddering walls of his body wrung an orgasm from one of the cocks inside him, painting his insides white again.

Another cock replaced it, bigger than the previous cocks. Victor scrabbled helplessly on the floor as it penetrated him. It was so much bigger, it made everything ache. His body was already so sensitive from his orgasm that he was left sobbing, raw and open.

Yuuri threw his head back, moaning beautifully as he finished on the man’s stomach. His limbs were heavy, and he wavered astride the man. But the sponsor could see Yuuri’s endurance finally flagging, and he gathered Yuuri up, bending him over the back of the couch so he could rail him and finish.

Victor was being moved. He could barely make sense of where his body ended and the cocks and hands began. He blinked, and suddenly he was beside Yuuri once more. They were both on their backs, one man fucking each of them. Victor tipped his head, and he found Yuuri’s eager lips seeking a kiss.

“What a pretty picture you make,” Papa cooed. His trembling hands were moving them, posing them to better take the cocks pumping in and out between their splayed thighs.

Yuuri was giddy as he kissed. His smile was wrecked, a perfect twin to Victor’s own. He was lost in the bliss of his husband kissing him so sweetly, a perfect contrast to the wild thrusting as the rest of the sponsors fucked their oversensitive bodies.

They were a mess, incoherent with the overwhelming pleasure. Victor could barely register the feeling of the felt tip marker on his skin, too overblown by bodies twisting and thrusting and rutting into him between his thighs. Yuuri’s lips were on his, Yuuri’s pretty cries filling his senses as they were both taken again and again. Their bodies were just holes for cocks, something warm to fuck that made pretty noises when you thrust just right.

They kissed, they moaned, they stroked each other’s cocks, but their bodies were too wrung out to muster more than a feeble erection, completely unable to come. Any orgasms were dry and painful and sent tears tracking back down their cheeks. It may have been hours before the last sponsors stepped away. There was a flash.

Then Victor’s memory went hazy, and things at last went dark. Nothing remained in his mind, save for Yuuri’s fingers twined in his.

* * *

Victor woke, stiff and sore. He almost didn't recognize the suite, but it eventually came to him, as he pushed his hair back from his face and tried to remember what happened last night.

The honeymoon suite. The screaming alarm, likely what had woken him, was switched off with a little flick of his fingers.

Beside him, Yuuri was sleeping deeply, curled against Victor’s body. Yuuri never stirred, even though the alarm was on his side of the bed. Victor brushed the hair back from his forehead and kissed the skin.

His sleeping beauty.

Victor stretched with a low groan. His body hurt. Everything hurt. Victor pinched his lips tight together. His eyes moved back over Yuuri. He peeled the sheets back from their legs.

A sea of black marks painted their legs. They were grouped into bundles of fives, spattered over the skin like bruises.

Victor was already summing them in his head before he forced himself to stop. Their bodies were clean. No come. No veils. The only trace of the night was the marker on their thighs and the burn in Victor’s ass from being fucked too many times.

Yuuri made a little cooing noise. He shivered and moved to the warmth, cuddling Victor close. Victor let Yuuri draw him in. He forced himself to relax.

They had their whole honeymoon to work it out.

* * *

The trip was everything Victor dreamed of. Relaxing, wonderful. Yuuri remembered very little of their first night as husbands, but he didn't seem confused when Victor mentioned it just once.

He just smiled at Victor. “It never happened if you don't want it to. I had a great time. I know you did too. You look good on bottom.”

Victor shivered a little and smiled. “So do you.”

But life couldn't be put on pause forever. They came home. They settled back into their apartment in St Petersburg. Victor picked up Makkachin. Yuuri went to collect the mail that had piled up in their absence.

Yuuri tossed Victor something when he came home.

It was a glittering gold envelope, addressed to them both. It was sealed with a sticker that looked like a pair of golden rings. There was no return address.

Inside was a slip of paper that said ‘Happy Wedding!’ and a photo. Victor turned the photo over. It was a glossy, full color, high definition print of Victor and Yuuri.

They both were dressed in bridal veils, ribbons on their necks, garters on their thighs. Their bodies were streaked with come. They looked freshly fucked, hungry for more. They looked beautiful. They looked in love.

Yuuri pressed a kiss to Victor’s cheek, and Victor pulled him into his arms, deepening it.

  



End file.
